


Happy Birthday, Sixer

by OctaviatheCow



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Brotherly Love, Cheap presents rich values, Cute kid fluff, Minor mention of religion, Stanford Pines - Freeform, Stanley Pines - Freeform, These boys are so awkward, Twirthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctaviatheCow/pseuds/OctaviatheCow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford is an odd boy, but Stanley can be weirder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Sixer

Stanford doesn't know what to think when he finds ribbons tied to all of his fingers on his right hand. Did his brother, ever the procrastinator, decide to practice his bow tying last night? 

Groggily, he begins to undo the ribbons. The last thing he wants is people staring at his hands on his birthday. 

"Hey! Don't do that." Stanley indignantly pops his head from underneath the covers. He looks wild: eyes out of focus without his glasses on, hair in just about every direction, and the lightning bandaid between his eyes crinkled. He didn't sleep well, sleeping on the top bunk, but he smiles.

Stanford balls his hand close to his chest, as if to hide it from his brother. "Why not?" He asks defensively, "It's _my_ hand, Stanley."

"...you didn't read what I wrote on your palm, did you?" Stanley sits up rod straight, tucks his chin in and puffs his chest out. He does a great impression of their disappointed dad, Stanford realizes with a grimace.

"No," Stanford admits guiltily. He hadn't even noticed. "But why is that important?" He pokes a finger into Stanley's chest.

Without a word, Stanley clasps his brother's hand in his own and gently pulls his fingers back. In chicken scratch and black marker:

' _I didn't want you to forget that your hands are gifts. God gave you extra fingers cause you're extra special. Happy Birthday, Sixer!_ '

"Oh..wow. " Stanford dumbly states. Stanley's gift is thoughtful. It's worth so much more than anything he could've bought. He whispers "Thank you" so softly Stan doesn't hear him.

"I did good, huh?" 

"Sure," Stanford smirks, removing the awe inspired look from his face though not entirely from his eyes. "You just didn't want to spend any of your allowance, did you?" He pushes his brother playfully.

"Hah ha, what?" Stanley awkwardly laughs, flopping down on his back. Is he so predictable? "You're happy, though, right? " He avoids Stanford's eyes.

"Yeah. Do you plan to do the same thing on our twelfth birthday? "

"Probably." Stanley answers honestly, scratching his arm that isn't really itchy. "Does that bother you...?" 

"No. It's nice to know you can be sentimental." Stanford digs into his pillowcase and pulls out a wooden figurine. "It also makes my gift seem less odd by comparison. "

Stanley's nose scrunches up like a smooshed up accordion; he doesn't know the 's' word his brother used, despite having attended all of his boring spelling bees. "Um, thanks. So _what_ did you get me, Ford?" He's almost scared to find out. He hopes it isn't a dried up alien* leg.

"See for yourself." Stanford shoves the little knickknack in front of Stanley's face. Stanley loves it immediately; it's a sad clown. Face flour white, blue eyes cast down, and red lips in a frown...it's strangely perfect to the jokester of a boy.

"How'd you know I'd like it?" Stanley asks, tracing it's sulky mouth with reverence.

Stanford bites the inside of his cheek. "Well...ahh. You're going to laugh when you hear this, Stan."

"Try me," Stanley dares, sitting up on his elbows. 

"It reminded me of you."

Stanley's eyebrows cock, almost as if to say "How so?". 

Stanford takes this as a sign to continue. "You're pretty good at making fun of yourself, but I still think it hurts you when people pick on you..." Stanford twiddles his thumbs and searches his twins eyes for understanding. "Do you know what I mean?"

A pause.

"Nope!" Stanley snorts, but he pulls his brother in for a hug. "I'm not cracking up at you, Ford," He whispers softly, "but sometimes you're a little over my head." Stanley admits.

Stanford frowns and pats his brother on the back. He doesn't want to think about how different they are, especially not today. "Wanna go see the rest of the presents? Mom and Dad talked about matching toy cars..."

**Author's Note:**

> What a weak ending and beginning! I hope the middle stuff makes up for it.
> 
> And yes, I do believe that Stanley was a hugger as a child. Hell, even in AToTS it looked like he wanted to hug Stanford before he got punched in the face. ;; 
> 
> *A Dried alien leg is a lizard leg. Stanley got ripped off once and bought one. But that's a different story for another time.
> 
> Thank you for reading! (:


End file.
